Way up there,You and I
by Strati
Summary: A one-shot I wrote for the kinkmeme over on LJ, but it's pretty clean. Is a dragon his rider's brother, is lover, or his best friend?


Sibling

Stoick the Vast is burned on Raven's Point and scattered into Berk's harbor, so that his spirit might guard his people from above and his body might guard them by sea. His son, Hiccup the Dragon, had been Acting Chief for several years by the time the ailing Stoick finally died, but as he dusts the last of his father's ashes from his hands, he finds himself feeling like he's about to fall into a deep precipice and has no idea what to do next. He, very much a man now at age twenty-six, suddenly feels like a boy of fifteen again, watching his father slam the door behind him after declaring that Hiccup was no son of his. There is a deep ache in his chest and at once he feels empty and all too full. He can't weep anymore; it would be unbecoming of a chief to cry in public. Besides, he doesn't think he has anymore tears to spare after spending the last few days at his father's bedside, allowing hot, silent tears to fall unchecked as Stoick the Vast, solid as granite and unshakeable the foundations of the Island of Berk itself, left the world of the living piece by piece. He died in his bed an old man and so his spirit will not go to Valhalla. But that's alright, Hiccup thinks numbly. Stoick would probably rather remain here, watching over his village.

The ashes have all sunk now, the grey fog slowly slipping away into the dark waters. The sea is choppy and iron clouds on the horizon signal a storm is coming. The crowd that had gathered for the burial rites is slowly dispersing, some approaching Hiccup to grasp his shoulder or to shake his hand, telling him that Stoick had been a credit to his family, that Hiccup had made him proud, that he would be a fine chieftain. Hiccup returns smiles stiffly and thanks the condolers. The wind is cold and sharp, and soon, all the mourners are gone, leaving Hiccup alone… well, almost alone. He hears Astrid's footsteps and leans into her touch a second before she actually lays her hands on his shoulders. He turns in her arms and they embrace. Hiccup fights the urge to hold his wife tightly, to sob into her shoulder, but he mustn't, he mustn't. Such a display… well, that's not what chiefs do.

She holds him in silence for a few moments, stroking his hair.

"I should go talk to the girls." He mumbles into her shoulder. "I don't think they really know why their Grandad is gone."

"No, later." Astrid says. She pulls away to hold Hiccup's face in her palms. "The girls will be at the house later. I can talk to them until then."

"No, Astrid, I need to do this, I can't just-" he protests half-heartedly. Part of him wants to go to his daughters, his beautiful baby girls, but most of him wants to go hide in forest like he did as a boy.

"No." his wife interrupts him mid-mumble. "You go do what you need to do right now, Hiccup Haddock. That's an order." Astrid was always bossy, but Hiccup had never minded.

"Right." He sighs and rests his forehead against hers "Alright." She kisses him once on his forehead and once on his mouth.

"Be back before the storm. I'll put the girls to bed. I'll wait up for you." She says in that gentle tone she reserves only for her husband and her daughters. "Now go and be careful."

She kisses him one more time and departs, her blue cloak snapping in the wind as she hikes back to the house. Hiccup watches her go before he follows, slower than usual on his mechanical leg. He takes the smooth path up behind the house and finds Toothless waiting for him. The dragon had balked at the idea of being around a dead body and had stayed while Hiccup and Astrid went to the funeral.

Toothless is at his side in the blink of an eye, sniffing at Hiccups hair and purring softly. Hiccup scritches the sweet spot on the dragon's neck and then swings himself up into the saddle.

They long ago reached the point where flying was less about Hiccup as the rider and Toothless as the mount, and more about being in sync, operating as single unit. Toothless flies lazily, going where he likes while Hiccup automatically adjusts the false tailfin. He doesn't need to think about that anymore, so he just lets his mind wander. He doesn't feel the icy wind on his face, nor does he feel the way it cuts through his heavy fur cloak and woolen tunic. He doesn't feel the ache in the stump of his leg that always starts up when it's cold. He doesn't feel that paradoxical throbbing of emptiness and fullness in the center of his chest. What he does feel is the strong up-down motion of Toothless's wings and the heat radiating off of the dragon's body, even in the freezing weather. Toothless takes them down into Their Spot, that naturally formed arena where they had first become friends. The jostle of Toothless landing on his sturdy limbs shakes Hiccup back into the present and he slides off Toothless's back and onto his knees on the pebbly shore of the pond. Toothless settles down, curling around him until Hiccup is resting against his warm belly.

Toothless croons softly and nuzzles Hiccup, making the soft whistle-moan that means he's unhappy about something. They had often been at odds, but Toothless had liked Stoick, in his fashion. He was Hiccup's father, which made him Family.

The air seems to change and all at once Hiccup's crying like he hasn't cried since early childhood. He sobs into Toothless's side and pounds at the ground with a fist. He's weeping and snarling and cursing all at once and no matter how much he gasps through the tears and snot, he can't seem to get enough air.

But crying isn't the effortless venting it used to be. Crying is exhausting now and Hiccup soon falls to those silent tears again, his face buried in Toothless's neck, one hand stroking the dragon behind his ears, the other idly picking at a loose thread on his trousers. He's tired and still very sad and angry, but he feels better. Toothless will not judge his weakness, nor will he try to cheer Hiccup up with consolations or memories of his father. Toothless just is _there _with him, warm and solid and familiar. He is mourning too, and knowing that he has a brother in his grief is enough to somewhat ease the pain of Stoick's passing.

Lover

Hiccup loves Astrid. He loves her hair, her smile, her anger, her laughter, her bossiness, her snappish Nadder, her body, her mind, her strength, her weakness, everything. Astrid is the second best thing that ever happened to him, but she doesn't know that. Hiccup isn't about to tell her either. They're getting married in less than a month and he doesn't want anything to mess up Their Day.

But the fact remains, Astrid is the _second_ best thing that ever happened to him. The first best thing is currently under him and between his legs, taking them both into a smooth dive right through the misty summer cloud cover. Toothless, with Hiccup's second-nature aid, pulls them out of the dive just before they hit the sea and starts taking them back up to swoop between the towering rock formations that litter the shoreline of the Island of Berk. They don't need to think to fly anymore. Toothless was born with the gift and Hiccup soon picked it up as well, learning to just feel his way through the air currents and gusts of wind. They are single unit. They don't need words to fly.

Hiccup knows that Toothless can understand his words, but Hiccup can't understand Toothless's eloquent language of roars, barks, trills, croons, and growls. The only language they have in common is the language of the body. Toothless can speak volumes with the quirk of an ear or the lash of his tail. It's amazing how sarcastic he can be just by lowering the lids of his great green eyes. Hiccup talks with his hands, his fingers fluttering like bird's wings, gesticulating wildly the more enthusiastic he gets. Toothless hears Hiccup's speech, but he listens to his hands. They have a tongue all their own. They can have a long conversation made up entirely of gestures, cocked eyebrows, narrowing and widening eyes, stamped feet, and quirking lips.

Hiccup whoops with joy as Toothless takes them into a spin, gaining altitude rapidly. They perform an aerial somersault and once again they dive, producing a ballistic scream as they hurtle towards the white waves below. When Toothless throws out his wings at the last minute and shoots them back up, Hiccup can feel the rush all the way from the tips of his toes to the ends of each strand of his hair. He can't resist a shout of victorious laughter as Toothless spits a spurt of blue-yellow flame and then dodges the missile by inches. The dragon roars loud enough to shake the birds from their perches on the rocks and Hiccup roars with him. They are one being in those moments.

Hiccup loved Astrid, but she could never replace his first love.

Best Friend

Hiccup had been a lonely child. He had his father and Gobber for company, but that's about it. A busy chieftain couldn't be his son's best mate and Gobber was his teacher, and for all their good natured ribbing, Hiccup knew that Gobber would always be The Boss first. The other children his age teased him and tormented him, and the rest of the village viewed him as a nuisance. He had become a quiet, serious child, lost in his thoughts like a man many times his age. His apprenticeship at the Forge had given him confidence, and exposure to Gobber had given him a dry sense of humor, but he remained the Odd One. He was marginally useful to his village, but for the most part, he was on the fringes. He wanted so badly to break into that circle. He wanted to be one of them, to be accepted, to see pride in his father's eyes… but he found his own nature confounding him at every turn. He would try to talk to the other teens and three sentences in he found them staring blankly at him as if he had been speaking gibberish. He and his father could find nothing to talk about, for it seemed they had nothing in common besides blood. The adults, save for Gobber, more or less ignored him or glared at him disapprovingly. He was just different. He tried, but he could no more fit the mold of the Perfect Viking any more than he could change the color of his skin like a chameleon. He kept at it though. He carried the Viking gene of stubbornness if nothing else.

It wasn't until a legendary Night Fury horked up half a dead cod into his lap that he knew what it was like to have someone accept you, no change necessary. It was strange and wonderful, knowing what it was to have someone at his back, someone who would listen to his crazy ideas as well as his rambling or bitching about the weather. It was wonderful to have a playmate after years of being by himself. The best thing of all was knowing that he was doing the same thing for Toothless, his dragon. He had never had anyone to look after or cheer. It felt nice.

After the battle with the Green Death, Hiccup gained more friends. He broke into that impregnable ring of likeness and became not just accepted, but a local hero. He appreciated the gratitude, and he did grow to like his new friends more and more, but Toothless was always first to him. After all, the Vikings had needed proof of his worth before they would befriend him. All Toothless needed was a fish or two, a belly rub, and _him_, no proof needed.


End file.
